Warped into Time
by leoandsnake
Summary: Companion to 'Devil's In The Detail's' and 'Justice Over Mercy'; these ficlets delve into the sixth year of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy on the DitD/JoM timeline and flesh out the story.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I didn't really expect to start these so soon, but I figured it would be good to start something up again as JoM is ending soon. I plan to write at least ten ficlets, all set in Harry and Draco's sixth year, exploring the strain the war had on their relationship and some parts of the war in general. They may or may not be out of order, but they're fairly self-explanatory (I hope) and so it should probably make sense anyway. Cheers!_

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Draco skulked through the dark Hogwarts corridors, jerking nervously at every sound he heard. The shifting and creaking of the suits of armor echoed louder in his mind than front row at a Weird Sisters concert, and the snoring of the portraits was sending shooting, nervous pains through his chest.

He turned a corner when he reached the floor just above the dungeons. It was colder down here, and the walls were dingier, darker, and unpleasantly tinged with green.

Draco was about to stow his wand when he heard someone breathing about three feet from his face. His hands began to tremble.

"_L-lumos_," he hissed, pulling it out again. But no one was illuminated in the pool of light spilling from ten inches of hawthorn.

"Oh, go bugger yourself, Potter," Draco said, dropping his wand hand to his side.

A laughing Harry pulled the Invisibility cloak off of himself, rumpling his black hair further. "How'd you know it was me?"

"How many frequently invisible people do _you_ know?" Draco shot back. "What are you doing, lurking around the castle in the middle of the night?" he added, fingering his prefect badge.

"I could ask you the same," Harry said, tilting his head and grinning.

"Don't," Draco said, but the corners of his lips curved upward slightly.

Harry's eyes drifted toward Draco's left wrist and he looked distant for a moment. "Actually, I was looking for you." He fingered a piece of parchment that was sticking out of his pocket slightly. Draco's eyebrows lifted.

"You, er, were talking to Slughorn the other day?"

"And?" Draco replied, shifting his weight to his right foot and studying Harry critically.

"Anything in particular?" Harry said, fiddling with the string of his pajama bottoms.

"Potter, I'm on your side, you know," Draco snapped. "There's no need to interrogate me."

"I'm not," Harry replied hastily. "It's just that Dumbledore wants me to, ah... Never mind. I was just wondering if it was anything important. Clearly not."

Draco watched as several states of agitation worked across Harry's face. He began to smirk. "Looking for me in the middle of the night... you're not _horny_, are you?"

"No," Harry said. "Although..."

"Although," Draco repeated, tapping his wand briefly against his bottom lip and watching Harry's eyes widen.

Harry let the Invisibility cloak slip from his shoulders and advanced on Draco, sliding his Quidditch-roughened hands over Draco's shoulders and meeting his eyes. "That might have had a _bit_ to do with it."

"_Nox_," Draco said quietly, slipping his wand back into his sleeve. It rubbed slightly against the fresh Dark Mark and he winced internally.

Harry leaned in, accidentally biting Draco's bottom lip with eagerness, working his tongue against every open plane like a cheerful dog.

Draco closed his eyes, his mind elsewhere, on the Vanishing Cabinent in the Room of Requirement and Dumbledore's words:

_Do what you must._

"Can we go back to your room?" Harry whispered in Draco's ear as Draco tugged at the crotch of the pajama bottoms, struck by a sudden need to grasp Harry's cock.

"Blaise has insomnia," Draco replied, sliding pale fingers across Harry's base. Harry moaned something unintelligible that had _r'_s and _m_'s in it and clutched Draco's shoulders tighter.

"So?" Harry replied, stamping his foot a little as if to say _more, please_ and _no, stop _at the same time.

"What about your..."

"No, Dean's a light sleeper," Harry said immediately. "_Merlin, _yes, right under there..."

"Maybe you should go back to bed then," Draco said, drawing away from Harry slightly.

Harry grabbed his wrist. "No," he said, not bothering to conceal the urgency in his voice. "Isn't there... the Room of Requirement or something?"

Draco's stomach lurched unpleasantly. "What, you want to do it in the--"

"It's just a room," Harry said reasonably. "Preferably with a bed."

"Maybe we should both go to bed," Draco said, pulling away from Harry further.

Harry laughed self-consciously. "Isn't that sort of what I was getting at?"

"No, I mean," Draco said, "I have... class."

"Tomorrow's Saturday," Harry said, his voice tightening in the darkness.

"I'll see you around, Potter," Draco said lightly, brushing past Harry. "I'm going to bed."

When Draco was gone, Harry pulled the Maruader's map out of his pocket and watched as the dot labeled Draco Malfoy headed not for the dungeons below them, but straight for the Room of Requirement.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry awoke covered in sweat.

His sheets were tangled around him and his glasses were lying on the floor, shattered. As he sat up, nursing a bruise on his hand, Harry supposed he had flailed around in his sleep and knocked into his bedside table.

His mind was still heavy with sick, chilling nightmares; Tom Riddle hissing at him, his tongue curling around the word Horcrux.

Looking outside, he figured it was mid-Sunday. The dormitory had emptied, probably hours earlier.

He stepped out of bed gingerly, avoiding an unfinished Transfiguration essay and grabbing his wand where it had fallen on the floor. He picked his glasses off the floor, murmured "_Reparo_" and slid them on.

"Morning. Seen Ron lately?" Harry asked Hermione, who was curled in front of the ashes of last night's fire with a rather large book about the rise and fall of some 14th century warlock.

"No," Hermione said tightly. "Probably off with _Lav-Lav, _isn't he?"

"Er," Harry said. "Well, I don't know, that's sort of why I asked."

Hermione's brown eyes flicked back up to meet his face. "Well, aren't _you_ in an utterly foul mood."

"Sorry," Harry said. "I didn't get a lot of sleep. I'm going for a fly, see you later?"

"Mmm," Hermione said, not looking up from the pages.

Harry made his way quickly to the Quidditch pitch, not wanting to get caught up in a conversation. As he stepped out into the crisp air, he spotted someone kicking off about fifty feet away, the sunlight bouncing off their blonde hair like a beacon.

"Shit," Harry murmured to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was run into _Malfoy_.

Draco landed and dismounted his broom, heading straight for Harry. "What do _you_ want, Potter?" he all but snarled as soon as they were in hearing distance of each other.

"The love of a good woman," Harry said sarcastically. "It's not a big deal, Malfoy. We happened to be in the same place at the same time; I'm not following you around." _Not today, anyway_, he added silently to himself.

Draco stopped and ran his tongue over his teeth, looking up at the sky. "I thought I'd be alone today."

"So did I," Harry said. He took a better look at Draco and saw that in the grey, muddy light of the afternoon he looked rather distressed and jumpy. "Can't we share the pitch?"

"If you insist, Potter," Draco sighed, rolling his eyes and re-straddling his broom.

"Wait," Harry said. "What are you here for?"

Draco gave him a disparaging look and took off into the air.

"We're playing _that_ game, then," Harry said to himself, and kicked off right behind him.

Draco was good, but he wasn't nearly as good as Harry, who was always one step ahead of him. Finally Draco stopped midair, pushing his hair away from his face.

Harry pulled up next to him. "Forfeiting?" he said with a grin.

"Forfeiting _what_?" Draco said, sounding mildly harassed. "God, Potter, you're ridiculously competitive."

"And you aren't?"

Draco smirked at him. "Conversation for another day, Potter."

Harry's Firebolt was edging slightly closer to Draco's Nimbus with every second; finally, the two boys were practically pressed against each other.

"It's nice, the air," Draco said, gesturing vaguely. "Better than being inside _that_ shitpile, anyway," he said, with a nod toward Hogwarts.

"God, you're an insufferable git," Harry said, leaning forward and meeting Draco's lips.

Draco arced up against Harry, wavering slightly as a stiff breeze rolled over them and his Nimbus inched to the left.

Harry put a steadying hand across the small of Draco's back, pressing harder against him.

Draco's hand found Harry's thigh, and then his crotch. Harry jerked slightly and held Draco tighter, alarmed by the sensation of being on a broom for the first time in five years.

When they finally landed, Draco had a telltale mark on his neck, and Harry's hair was messier than it had ever been.

"Uh, Potter?"

Harry looked up as Cormac McLaggen approached him. He closed the doors to the broomshed.

"Yeah?" he said, swearing inwardly. He couldn't have seen them, had he?

"Could you grab my broom for me?"

"_What_?" Harry demanded in alarm.

"It's... right next to yours."

"Oh," Harry said. "Oh, your... Nimbus."

"Yes," Cormac said, warily, giving Harry a double-take as he took the broom from him and walked away.

Harry sighed and closed the doors to the broomshed again.


	3. Chapter 3

"You will be careful not to tell the boy too much, Severus?"

Dumbledore looked at Snape over his half-moon glasses. Snape shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

"Yes."

"Good. I think we can agree that there is a time and place for all manner of business to be discussed."

"Yes," Snape repeated silkily.

"I must ask, Severus," Dumbledore said, looking at Snape with ill-masked curiosity, "why Draco approached you? I thought he had been threatened into silence, presumably by Voldemort?"

Snape twitched at that. "It's Potter, I believe," he said dourly. "He does... _adore_ him," he sneered.

Dumbledore tilted his head.

"He told me so himself," Snape said, "under mild duress. If I recall correctly, it was along the lines of, 'I know he's going to find that and use it against me, he's going to torture me into giving Potter away or kill my parents or something, if you promise to keep me and my family safe I promise I'll give you as much information as I can'."

Dumbledore smiled gently. It surprised him, sometimes, how much Draco reminded him of his younger self. Far more than Harry ever did, as selfless and noble as he was at this young age.

"He wouldn't be the first to be captivated by those green eyes," Dumbledore said, not unkindly, and Snape shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "We can use that to our advantage, however. So," he continued. "The night you kill me -- don't look at me that way, Severus. This_ is _the plan. On that night, you will take Draco to safety, under guise of fleeing from the castle."

"Voldemort will find him," Snape interrupted. "He has the Mark."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "But it is imperative, Severus, that you get him away from the castle on that night."

"He told me, among other things, that he is repairing the Vanishing Cabinet in order to..."

"Yes, I did know about that," Dumbledore said. He did not elaborate.

"Well," Snape said, "I will be going now, Headmaster, I have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class in a few minutes."

As he got up, he turned back to Dumbledore and said quietly, "I think he always _has_ adored him."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and nodded as Snape left the office.

-

"Malfoy looks _bad_," Ron said with a note of glee in his voice.

As Slughorn passed their table, giving instructions, Harry snuck a glance at Draco.

Draco looked back at him and his face softened for a moment. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was paler than usual. He looked like he'd just been punched in the gut; with a sort of shell-shocked, despairing, reproachful air about him.

Thunder crackled outside.

"Good Lord," Slughorn muttered, "will this storm ever let up? Now then, everyone, turn to page forty-five, it should list a number of ingredients..."

Harry fiddled with the cover of the Half-Blood Prince's book, his mind elsewhere.

-

"Draco," Pansy murmured, looking at him balefully.

"What?" Draco demanded, staring at the page he was reading without seeing it.

"Where'd you get that book?" Blaise said curiously, peering over Draco's shoulder at descriptions of ungodly torture. "Nicked it out of the Restricted section, I expect?" he said casually.

"Draco, will you pay some damn attention to me?" Pansy shrieked. A first-year stared over vacantly, then returned to his solitary game of Gobstones.

"No," Draco said vaguely. He barely heard a word she was saying; her words washed over his brain like a particularly shrill ocean wave.

Pansy pouted and crawled closer to his lap from her spot on the couch. Leaning toward his ear, she whispered, "I'll show you my tits."

"I have little interest in tits at the moment, Pansy," Draco snapped, standing up abruptly.

Blaise snorted with laughter and raised an imaginary glass to him. "Cheers."

Draco stormed out of the Slytherin dormitory and straight for the far corner of the library, where he knew Harry sometimes holed up to study with that insufferable Granger.

There was no one there, however, so he propped his feet up on the table and continued to read.

Books usually held little interest for Draco; he preferred to put things in action, but this was a special book, full of a different sort of spell. Not all of them were hexes -- some were delightfully intricate in their casting, intended to do as much damage as possible to the opponent without inflicting physical harm.

Draco _liked_ that kind of spell. He was glad he had been able to strong-arm a second-year into requesting the book from a teacher for research. Of course, if he had Potter's Invisibility Cloak, the Restricted section wouldn't be a problem...

Speak of the devil.

Draco looked up to see Harry standing there, a few books in his arms and bag slung across his shoulder. Granger was delightfully absent.

"Fancy seeing you here, Potter," he sneered.

"Yeah, fancy that," Harry replied evenly, looking around cautiously.

"We're alone," Draco said. He didn't mention Confunding Madame Pince as he walked in, in case she decided to start lurking around.

"Really?" Harry bit his lower lip, looking all of eleven again. His hair was wildly askew as usual and his cheeks were quite red, like succulent apples...

Draco took a deep, steadying breath. "Join me?" he muttered, keeping a close watch on the shelf next to them.

"You know, I think I will," Harry said with a laugh.

As soon as he sat down, Draco's hand found Harry's thigh under the table.

Above the table, they said nothing of it.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I've been neglecting this, I know, but I was inspired while re-reading Deathly Hallows and revisited it. This is a few months before JoM begins. Quick note: Harry broke it off before going after the Hallows so Draco's spying could be more effective. He tried once or twice to start it back up right after the war but it wasn't until they moved in together that they were able to reconcile their feelings for each other.  
_

-

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you?"

Harry's voice rang out across the Great Hall. The words did not seem to permeate Draco's brain, but instead hung in the air around his head, meaning nothing to him. His parents stood behind him, his mother's hand on his shoulder, holding him rigid.

"Possessing the wand isn't enough to make it yours! Holding it, handling it, using it -- you tortured Ollivander for information and missed the most important bit. _The wand chooses the wizard_."

Draco looked up at the ceiling and drew in a breath. The ceiling, reflecting the sky above it, was dark with smoke. Harry's voice carried to him, continuing to lay information out for Voldemort. Everything he had missed for lack of wanting to see. Everything he had been ignorant to.

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

Harry's voice broke on his name, and Draco wondered who else heard it. His mother's grip tightened.

Voldemort's high cold voice stretched across the hall. "You no longer have the phoenix wand. We will duel on skill alone... and after I have killed you, I can turn my attention to Draco Malfoy."

Narcissa gasped and began to tremble. Her grip slackened. Draco moved away from her, toward the center of the Hall, and she cried out, but he kept moving forward.

"You're too late," said Harry, as Draco pushed a Gryffindor aside, stepping into the circle surrounding the pair of them. Harry's eyes lit on Draco and his face changed for a fleeting instant -- something dark in his eyes lifted slightly. "I took this wand from... Draco weeks ago. You missed your chance."

Voldemort drew up slightly and hissed, "So here we have it, Potter, the moment of truth."

Harry stared back at him stonily, fingers tightening around Draco's hawthorn wand.

They both moved at the same second, Harry shouting, "_EXPELLIARMUS_!" and Voldemort shrieking, "_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Draco cried out, but it was lost in the haze and echo of the Great Hall.

The spells rocketed toward each other and hit, with unparalleled force, striking each other, green on red. The green bounced back and hit Voldemort squarely, and he crumpled.

The Dark Mark on Draco's wrist burned gently, gently, and petered out, like a smoldering candle starved of oxygen. Draco stared, aghast, at the figure splayed ridiculously on the floor. He felt sick.

A defeaning silence filled the room, and then there was an outburst of shouting, jubilation, and everyone raced for Harry. Harry looked up from where his gaze was fixed on the dead Tom Riddle, and he met Draco's eyes.

Draco looked away. He was shaking all over, and clammy. He felt like he had been drained of blood

He moved away from the crowd, but not toward his parents. Draco moved through the crowd like a ghost, out the door of the Great Hall, and out of the front doors. He wandered over to a grassy knoll and sat down. The raucous celebrating from inside was still audible through the castle walls, though just barely.

He didn't know how long he sat, staring, until he heard rustling behind him. Draco turned and saw Harry pull the invisibility cloak off, draping it around his shoulders so that only his head, legs, and a strip of torso were visible.

"Mind if I join you, Malfoy?"

"No," Draco said weakly.

Harry sat down next to him. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

"I had to get out of there," Harry said. "Too many people, y'know?"

Draco remained quiet.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"For what?" Draco snapped.

Harry shrugged off the cloak and turned to face Draco, who found himself looking into those green eyes. The green eyes he had risked his life for, gone up against the dead, crumpled shell of a man lying in the Great Hall for, the way Severus Snape had before him.

"Snape," Draco said.

"He's dead."

It was a soft blow, comparatively.

Harry hesitated, choosing his words, and then settled on: "Your mother saved my life."

"You saved mine, Potter."

"I put your life in danger in the first place."

"No, it would've been," Draco said, talking over him. "I was set up for this one way or another. Now at least I can come out standing on the right side." He rubbed the Dark Mark like like it was a stubborn bit of dirt that would come off in time.

"I've missed you," Harry said. "A lot. I don't know why. But that night at the Manor..."

Draco looked down. "It was nothing, Potter."

"You slipped incredibly valuable information to us, Malfoy, it wasn't_ nothing_."

Draco opened his mouth to argue but Harry waved to silence him. "_Accio cloak_," he whispered, raising his wand, and it flew into his outstretched hand. Harry draped it over both of them, just as a group of people came rounding the corner, carrying two of the dead into the castle, all of them somber-faced.

"We don't have to talk about that now," Harry whispered. "We won. It's over. We have all the time in the world."

"I thought you were dead," Draco replied, and his shoulders began to shake. He willed himself not to cry. "I thought you were dead, Potter, and --"

"Shh," Harry said, pulling the cloak over his foot.

"Crabbe is dead," Draco murmured.

"You're in shock. It'll be okay, Malfoy."

"Everyone's dead. Fuck, Potter, stop sitting here and telling me it's going to be okay." Draco stood up and the cloak slid to the ground, revealing him and Harry. "It won't be."

"It will. Eventually. He's gone."

"_He's never going to be gone! _He's here right now!" Draco gestured at the air.

Harry glared at him, his glasses slipping down his nose. "Do you honestly think I don't feel the same way? I haven't seen you in _months_, Malfoy, and the first chance I get --"

Draco stormed off. Harry sighed, waited a moment, and followed him.

"Harry!"

"Hey, Harry!"

He waved off the calls coming from everyone he'd left behind. He'd go back up in a minute and face everyone again. But not now.

Draco finally stopped right before the Forbidden Forest, as if there were an invisible barrier there. He turned to Harry.

Harry stepped forward and kissed him.

Draco jerked away, but then softened at his touch and kissed him back. Harry's glasses fogged and he took them off, sliding them into his pocket. His hands moved across Draco gently, questioningly.

"Harry," came another faraway call.

They separated.

"I should go back up," Harry said.

"Fine," said Draco. "You left your cloak, Potter."

"I know."

They looked at each other a moment.

Harry turned to go, then wheeled around and said, "Before I died, I thought of you."

Draco stood, stony.

"Thought you might like to know," Harry said, and left.

Someone was moving near them. Draco looked up, eyes blurred with tears, and saw two tall Ravenclaws carrying a body away from the forest.

"He's dead," Draco said to himself, and left to find his parents.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: This is set the night that Harry, Ron and Hermione escape the M.O.M._

_-  
_

"You know how they managed to breach the Ministry, Cauldor."

"No, no, my Lord, I do not, I would never -- they were disguised, the Polyjuice Potion --"

"Silence!" Voldemort hissed, and when the man cowering in front of the circle of Death Eaters continued to mumble frantically, he raised his wand, and Cauldor twisted on the floor, choking on his own tongue.

"I believe," Voldemort said, his cold voice sending chills down Draco's spine, "our younger Malfoy should do the honors."

Lucius sent a terrified look toward his son, face twisted under his mask.

"Draco," Voldemort said, turning to him.

Draco stood rooted to the spot.

"The Cruciatus Curse, until he speaks," said Voldemort.

Someone shoved him forward, out of the circle. Draco raised his wand, his hand shaking. "_C-crucio_," he said quietly.

Nothing happened. Cauldor continued to weep on the floor in front of him.

"With conviction," Voldemort spat, as if Draco's hesitation were a disgusting thing to behold.

"_Crucio_," Draco repeated. Cauldor twitched slightly, and that was all.

"Malfoy, you simpering coward, how you _do _take after your father_. KILL HIM!_" Voldemort shouted.

"I can't, I can't," Draco whimpered, stepping back.

"Kill him_ now_," Voldemort snarled, voice distorted with rage.

"I --"

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Voldemort shouted, pushing Draco aside. A jet of green light burst from his wand and hit Cauldor squarely. He crumpled and lay still, glassy, empty eyes reflecting the room.

Draco slumped to his knees and vomited on the stone floor. There was laughter.

"Thanks to your dear, idiotic son, Lucius, I have lost a double agent before I could properly punish him," Voldemort said, voice brimming with indifference. "_Crucio_."

This time his wand was aimed at Draco.

It was as if white-hot steak knives were being plunged into his every nerve. He screamed, again and again, jerking spastically, mask slipping from his face --

And then it was over. He fell to the ground, trembling. His mind was filled with images, all of them Harry, Harry's green eyes, Harry's face, Harry's scar, every detail and molecule of his existence.

Voldemort looked him over carelessly. "You will get the hang of it eventually, Draco. You have control of your emotions, and that is the first step. Stand up."

Draco did not move.

"I grow weary of repeating myself, Draco."

Draco rose to his feet, stumbled, and fell again. Another Death Eater grabbed him by the elbow and hoisted him up.

"You are dismissed for the moment," Voldemort told him. "I may require you again tonight. Do not stray."

Draco nodded. "Yes, my Lord," he said, throat raw.

As he left the room he raised his wand. The Order would want to know that Cauldor was dead, as he was an informant of theirs.

He didn't know if Harry was alive or dead. Yaxley had come back hours ago, with news that the trio had once again escaped. Draco could only rationalize that if Harry was dead, Voldemort would know.

Draco rose his wand. He had only used the Patronus charm once prior, and it had taken him multiple tries until it had formed a pearly serpent.

"_Expecto Patronum_," he said quietly, so the Death Eaters wouldn't overhear.

Nothing happened.

Frustrated, he rose his wand higher and repeated the incantation, concentrating on the day in Potions class where he had outshone Hermione Granger on skill alone, and not Snape's favoritism.

His Patronus burst from his wand and he jumped in shock and dropped his wand.

A phoenix had exploded into midair before him, and was observing him, tilting its head shrewdly. Draco took a deep breath. The phoenix let out a few haunting, warbling notes, and a strange sensation rose in his stomach. Suddenly, all he could think of was Harry, and his eyes stung as he cast his wand aside and gritted his teeth.

Harry inside of him, Harry touching him, Harry's fingers closing around Draco's as they struggled together for the Snitch.

"Tell him," Draco said, voice shaking, "that Cauldor is dead."

The phoenix let out another haunting note and Draco dropped to his knees.

"Please stop," he begged the Patronus. He couldn't bear the tide of emotion rising up inside him. He quelled it, focusing on the stone floor in front of him, focusing on the nothingness of the bowels of Malfoy Manor.

"Tell him I have information for him, if he wants it," Draco said. "Tell him he should stay hidden for now."

The phoenix flapped its silvery wings and rose into the air.

"Wait," Draco said, but it disappeared as he spoke.

He stood, staring at the spot where it had vanished.

"Well, well."

Draco jumped.

"You should take precaution, Malfoy, to not be quite so obvious about this sort of thing," said Snape, stepping out of the shadows.

Draco breathed, heart racing, and hissed something particularly nasty at him.

"Is that any way to talk to your headmaster?"

"_Former_," Draco snapped, "headmaster."

"Don't tell me you've developed a sudden allegiance to our late Dumbledore."

"I'm not a student at Hogwarts anymore," Draco told him. "That's all."

"Neither is your _contact_," Snape said.

He said this in a revolted way, as if he were speaking of an incurable, disfiguring illness.

"He's not my... contact," Draco said. "He doesn't mean anything to me. I just want to have one foot on either side of this, is all --"

There were approaching footsteps.

"Quiet, idiot! _Muffliato_," Snape snarled, raising his wand.

"What are you doing away from Hogwarts?"

"I come when the Dark Lord requires me," Snape replied, lifting his sleeve, revealing a freshly burning Dark Mark.

"You sure that's a good idea, leaving the castle?" Draco said. "Heard you're unfit to handle even the likes of _Ginny Weasley_."

"You and I are both aware of the delicate finesse it requires to toe the dividing line in a war," Snape replied. "I do not aim to kill on either side."

"Admit it, you want Voldemort as dead as anyone else," Draco drawled.

"Not as much as you, I'm sure," Snape said dismissively, "before he manages to lay a hand on your _precious Potter..." _

"Potter means nothing to me."

"That deeply contradicts what you've been confiding in me for two years."

"He's not _worthy_ of my attention," Draco hissed. "He abandoned me."

"Dumbledore seemed to think Potter had a higher purpose than lying around Hogwarts, jerking you off, Draco," Snape spat.

Draco stepped back, as if slapped. "I'm going," he muttered. "Unless our Lord has anyone else he'd like me to torture..."

"If you could even manage it," Snape replied drily.

Draco turned and stalked away, wand gripped tightly in his hand.


End file.
